• Royally Low Prices
    by- Tiberius R. T. Ray


    The wind blew down the wastes, clouding the air with white ash. Silence reigned in the stoic landscape, a few skeletons of dead trees testified to a great horror occurring in the past. He walked through the ash field, it's plain white hue mocking the joyful snows of yesteryear. The scavenger carried a spartan load within an old Hiking backpack . He had a few cans of food, a canteen, a machete, a laptop, and a solar charger. Earphones were clipped to his lupine ears, playing some of the greatest hits by a man named “Michael”. Somewhere he had heard he was a king. His hunting rifle lay idle strapped to his shoulder. The pockets of his white cargo pants were lined with ammo for his gun, and a few pieces of hard candy to liven his spirits. His white fur blended in well with the stunning white ash, effectively hiding his presence from raiders. Thus a picture of the wasteland was formed; A white wolf carrying all his worldly possessions through a ghost forest, as King Michael denied relation to a child.

    Off in the distance he saw something glorious; A purple sign with gold lettering. It stuck out like the thumb of an angelic hitchhiker. It made his eye's soar with joy and hope. He beheld A Jay-Mart. A Jay-mart meant many things. It meant food, it meant shelter, it meant clothing, it meant Royally Low Prices! It also meant he might get ambushed. He approached the purple building cautiously. He turned off King Michael's voice so he could listen carefully. He sniffed the air, but could smell no-one. All he could smell was himself, his need to bathe, and the rotten meat located in Jay-Mart. He came to the door. It was already open. He growled at no-one in particular. An open door meant the place had either been scavenged from already or was trapped. He got out his machete just in case.

    As he entered the store he saw the signs of what was once a make shift barricade. It seemed that on the day of Armageddon the store manager and his employee's barricaded the store in hopes of keeping the supplies for themselves. He hoped they were successful, and dead. He listened intently, in the distance he heard a rhythmic sound reminiscent of breathing. He froze in place. He listened closer. The sound was raspy and coming from the back of the store. He could smell nothing, but putrefying meat, so he suspected it was wind blowing through ventilation. He strided cautiously through the store. The clothing section was mostly intact. A sign read “By decree of King Jay, all clothing shall be 15% off til April 27th.” next to it was a picture of the king in his purple robes and gold crown. The noble lion smiled as he gestured towards the text. “I wonder if King Jay and King Michael ever warred against each other?” He whispered to himself. He laughed at the fantasy. The food section was on the other side of the store, so he slowly worked his way there. He grabbed a new pair of cargo pants and a shirt with the title of an ancient band, probably made up of bugs according to the band name. He came to the “sporting goods” section and grabbed a new flashlight. He lost his old one in an ash storm. He popped new batteries into it and tried it out. It effectively banished the dark.

    After a short time he came to the Mythical “Grocery Department”. Being a predominantly carnivorous person he went straight to the meat section. There was no meat to be found. It had all been eaten by some sort of wasteland predator probably. He stopped at the produce section next. Almost all of the fruit was rotten. Some were still edible after they got most of their bacteria blasted by gammas. He grabbed some lemons to ward off scurvy. He went to the the baked goods, there was a much more valuable commodity to be had. The loaves of bread were covered in white fuzz. He scraped all he could from the loaves and put it in a vial. Antibiotics were a rare and valuable commodity. Many scavengers didn't know where the Penicillin tablets came from. Those that did had a huge advantage in the bartering towns. A rustle came from his left. He stopped everything. There was no more sound.

    He finally came to the greatest of all aisles; the canned food aisle. The shelves were lined with can after can, each one a day's worth of food. He reached into his pocket for his multi-tool, and grabbed the nearest can. He opened the can of re-fried beans and started to feast. After all these years they were still good and delicious.. He walked down the aisle a bit, surveying as he went. Suddenly he spotted one of the most sought after foods in the wastes Spam. A whole shelf of it. Spam was any scavengers dream come true. It lasted nigh forever, it tasted almost like bacon, and could be eaten in a variety of ways to keep things interesting. He layed his gun and machete down and began shoveling all the spam into his pack. He drooled at the sight of it and forgot the beans. He stopped momentarily as he dropped in the last can, and wondered why no-one had scavenged here before. To his left lay the answer. A dead deer lay half eaten poorly stowed into a lower shelf. The kill was fresh, no more than 2 days old. He gazed up from the corpse when he heard a guttural roar. Charging at him was a Ghoulish Boar. Patches of skin were hairless and gray, cancerous lumps covered it's body, and the smell of rotted flesh emanated from it. It wore the outfit of the store manager. The Combination of biological weapons and nuclear fallout had made him, and likely the whole staff, into monsters. The Boar crashed into him and attempted to disembowel him with it's tusks. He grabbed the nearest can and smashed it across the Boar's face. The beast fell off him and swayed to it's feet, momentarily stunned. His gun was almost within reach. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed it. The boar was charging back at him, but was intercepted by the butt of the rifle. He pressed the rifle into the boar repeatedly until it stopped moving. He stopped and heard the howls of the other ghouls. He grabbed his pack and ran. Behind him the raving mad shells of the store employees chased him. He ran through the clothing section. As he ran he began to notice various bodies hidden in corners and behind shelving. The royal store was now a necropolis. He could see the door. He ran to freedom, as the menagerie of damned souls screamed for his flesh. He leaped for the door.

    The ghouls broke their pursuit before they ventured into the sunlight. He was safe. He dropped his pack and did an inventory check. He had lost another flashlight, and his machete, and a few bullets had fallen out of his pocket. He sighed, and then remembered what he had gained. He looked in the pack, and drooled over his horde of Spam. Another month or two of starvation had been warded off. He smiled, put on his new pants and shirt, and opened a can of Spam. He walked away from the Jay-Mart contented, as King Michael sang his ABC's with the rest of the Royal family.